


Birthday Celebrations!

by Luthienberen



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Birthday, Gen, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:00:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26215258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luthienberen/pseuds/Luthienberen
Summary: Charles is surprised by his Templar brethren on his birthday.
Relationships: (end pairing), Haytham Kenway/Charles Lee (1732-1782)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	Birthday Celebrations!

**Author's Note:**

> First written and posted over on my tumblr in 2015, I realised that I never posted this on A03. Rather early (or late) for Lee's birthday, but couldn't resist posting now. Only some slight tweaks to the original I posted in 2015.

* * *

Charles walked into a shower of rainbow coloured confetti and glitter. Three balloons, blue, red and yellow bumped into his face.

“What on…”

“Happy Birthday!” cried multiple voices and his brethren were abruptly in front of him with big grins. Dazed, Charles couldn’t say anything at first but stare in shock at his friends who looked like one of those glittery boy bands, with Templar flair in emblems and whatnot.

Thomas threw a spare balloon at him which drifted off to bob on the celling, “Welcome to your party Charlie, we’ve got cake, presents and even tea.”

“My party?” Charles was shocked, “But why?”

William was clearly amused as he led Charles in with a friendly hand on the shoulder,

“As we yelled: for your birthday Charles. We couldn’t let it pass by without proper celebration, especially since Abstergo has just won another round against the Assassins.”

Charles nodded, the reality that his brothers were actually putting so much effort into his birthday filling him with pleasure. William pushed him onto his sofa and John was checking the camera so he could take pictures. Gist and Thomas were busy with the food and drink that covered the side-table. Benjamin and Jack Weeks were chatting by the glass doors that led into the ‘breakfast room’, otherwise known as the ‘miscellaneous room’ used by Charles’ friends whenever a project needed lots of natural light.

Charles was certain he barely could enter that room these days it was so busy, and his poor breakfast table, large enough to fit the Inner Sanctum, was layered with numerous objects, including, but not limited to:

  * the latest shipping maps
  * a model ship
  * various medical books and tools of Benjamin’s research



As for the others…Charles resigned himself to never being able to enter without falling over Thomas’ various boxes full of nefarious contents. 

Glancing around, Charles realised his furniture was _covered_ in silly string, glitter, balloons, banners declaring ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHARLES!’ in garish colours with even one banner stretching across the room, hanging from the celling lights and finished with a Templar cross.

Cormac was sitting opposite him with Monro, both men smiling cheerfully. Charles realised they were wearing…oh no…Cormac held out a party hat with a serious expression, “Can’t have a party without a party hat, Lee.”

Monro winked in sympathy while William just rolled his eyes as he dropped onto a two-seater.

“I would add that this isn’t my doing Charles,” remarked the Master Kenway as he sat beside Charles, “However, it appears I was overruled in my absence by Hickey and Gist.”

The Grandmaster directed a cool stare at the two men who just shrugged, Gist helpfully handing out beer quickly.

Charles blinked at seeing Master Kenway also wearing a star spangled party hat, silver stars on a blue background, exactly the same as the one in Charles’ hand. He looked strange, but if Master Kenway was getting into the spirit…Charles put on the hat.

Master Kenway grey eyes seemed to look at him with approval, “Excellent Charles, now you can open your presents.”

Immediately all his brethren were leaning forward with Thomas and Gist rushing to find seats while John ordered Charles to wait until he was ready.

Thomas with characteristic impatience all but shoved his gift at Charles.

“Are you five Thomas?” he asked, handling the present with care, its shape giving away the secret nestled within. He peeled back the green wrapper to reveal a very expensive bottle of Russian vodka. Charles was impressed.

“Thank you Thomas, I shall enjoy this,” Charles teased seeing the crestfallen look on his brother’s face as well William’s, John’s and Gist’s.

It was hilarious and chuckling Charles said sweetly, “As long as I have civilised company that is, a man cannot drink alone. A terrible fate for sure.”

Laughter greeted his announcement and Thomas brightened up and urged, “Open Gist’s next!”

Charles sighed, “It’s alcohol isn’t it? Very well.”

Accepting a gaudy blue present Charles peeled off the foil. “You’ll both one day turn into beer and…whiskey apparently.”

Master Kenway leant over to examine the label, “An extremely good brand. Do we wish to know how you laid your hands on it Gist?”

Gist shrugged, causally slinging an arm over Thomas’s shoulders, the two friends the very real partners in crime they appeared as he answered, “Possibly not, but let’s say I lifted this burden off a captain who had no business being where he was at that particular time.”

“Thank you,” said Haytham drily, “That is more than sufficient information. Charles, I’m afraid we must drink the evidence as soon as we can.”

“No problem there,” said John cheerfully who had been snapping away when Charles was handed a gift, when he was unwrapping and when he held the finished product.

Charles wondered with amusement if his other presents were as equally self-serving.

“Okay, who’s next?”

In succession John and William graced him with their gifts: from William a box of three silk ties, “To replace the ones damaged when we had to jump into the lake to evade those pesky assassins.”

“Thanks William, that was annoying. My best suit was destroyed as well. I managed to buy a new one, but couldn’t decide on ties.”

From John were a trio of pins for the ties, silver and gold – one a Templar cross, another the symbol of Abstergo and the final one was… “A Pomeranian! How did you manage it?”

“I have my secrets,” said John smugly.

Charles shook his head and put the ties and pins aside carefully, next to his two bottles. Cormac shoved his present forwards, a sleek envelope. Curious Charles opened it to discover a note promising to take Charles wherever he wished on Cormac’s boat whenever he desired.

“Thank you Cormac!” Charles’s mind began buzzing with ideas and the hope that Master Kenway would join him, even as Monro handed his gift over.

“Oh thank you Monro. I was looking for a fresh book to read on the Seven Years War and I don’t have this one, ‘ _British Light Infantryman of the Seven Years' War’_. I can’t wait to read it, seems like a quick light read which makes a pleasant change.”

“And I can’t wait until we can discuss the contents.”

Charles smiled, their discussions on the Seven Years War were spirited and engaging, leaving Charles happy and in a good mood.

Benjamin gifted him with a splendid box of chocolates, full of flavours: strawberry centres, raspberry centres, orange, toffee, caramel and just chocolate slabs or untainted chocolate praline and truffles. Heaven!

Master Kenway’s voice awakened him from his stupor, “It appears we have lost Charles. Excellent work Church. Charles?” Master Kenway laid a hand on his arm, grey eyes bright with mirth and a smile turning up his handsome face, the silly hat not detracting from Haytham’s impeccable bearing, “Please entrust me with the chocolates. I assure you I have no designs on them.”

“I can-” Charles coughed, tongue sticking in his mouth, “I can share?”

“Yes,” agreed Monro, “but the whiskey and vodka are enough. Anyway, I’m sure that twitching isn’t good for you.”

Charles went red with embarrassment. Excellent, he was as bad as Thomas with beer; even the Grandmaster was joining in the gentle teasing. “I…guess so. But I shall offer when we have tea.”

The Grandmaster smile turned mysterious, “Then we should move on. Weeks you’re next.”

Weeks shared a conspirtional glance with Master Kenway and interest piqued, Charles hurriedly unwrapped the oblong present, aware he was now the five year child, but uncaring.

It was a tea selection box, self-made. Charles lifted the lid carefully off one miniature tin and inhaled a most heavenly scent of sweet peach blossom tea. He tried another and it was the heavier familiar scent of black tea, perfect to have with milk. Charles was going to burst with happiness at the thoughtful gestures from his friends, but now he simply had to know the connection between Master Kenway’s gift and Weeks.

As if on cue Master Kenway was holding his present. “Be gentle Charles, it is delicate.”

Excited because the man he admired beyond all others was giving him a birthday present Charles bent over the present and undid elegant wrapping: gold, silver, cream coloured thick paper with pretty designs of eighteenth century women and men.

As the wrapper fell away it revealed a box just as elegant as the wrapper and Charles suddenly had trembling hands as he urgently pulled the lid up.

Inside was much delicate paper carefully protecting a tea cup and saucer. The porcelain cup was beautiful in its fragility. It was a pale cream with gold edging the flowers and leaves curling around the cup. A dark purple flower bloomed in the centre and the rich gold handle was stunning. It was luxurious and so perfect yet what caught Charles’ eye and made tears spring to his eyes so he had to blink rapidly before anyone noticed, was the little moustache guard.

“Thank, thank you Sir!” stuttered Charles, too overcome to be able to control his voice as well.

“You’re welcome Charles. When I found that set I knew the tea cup was perfect for you.” A slender powerful arm slipped behind Charles, drawing him into a quick embrace which had Charles near fainting from delight.

However, as Charles straightened he realised that Haytham kept his arm circling him, not even commenting, just letting it rest there as if it belonged, causing Charles to have to send all his self-control into not crushing or dropping his wonderful tea cup from an overdose of joy.

John was clicking away with a knowing smirk but thankfully the Scot didn’t say anything and Thomas was strangely silent. Looking up Charles was surprised to see him gone and his other brethren watching with cheerful relaxed expressions, slumped in their seats, party hats askew and covered in confetti, silly string and glitter, entirely at ease. It was nice to know his brothers were so at home in Charles’ house.

As if sensing his thoughts Monro said, “Shall we continue with the celebrations Charles? Everything is prepared; we took the liberty of opening your cupboards for tea cups, glasses and mugs, not to mention plates and linen table cloth.”

“Naturally, but I insist we try my tea first.”

“Are you sure?” asked Cormac, “It is your private treasure.”

John nodded in agreement before slipping away.

“And I am surrounded by pirates,” snorted Charles, “or have you forgotten about the whiskey and vodka?”

“Never!”

Charles laughed happily halting in surprise when John and Thomas re-entered bearing cake with candles. Immediately his friends burst into chorus singing ‘Happy Birthday’ loudly and with a mixture of in tune and discordant voices.

As the cake was lowered in front of him Charles saw the black Pomeranian adorning the cake and shook his head.

The Inner Sanctum was crazy, but they were his brothers, his fellow Templars – his family and as he made a wish, blowing out the candles Charles had never been happier and or more confident.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick one-shot for Charles Lee’s birthday. :) 
> 
> * Haytham’s gift is inspired by this conversation between shaythams-notion and I: http://luthienberen.tumblr.com/post/98733213747/shaythams-notion-flemingmuseumofart-teacup
> 
> * The full title of the book mentioned is:  
> British Light Infantryman of the Seven Years' War: Lightbobs 1757- 1763 (Warrior) by Ian McCulloch (Author), Tim Todish (Author), Angus McBride (Illustrator)


End file.
